


Vagary

by Casthebass



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Blackjack, Drinking, Get it?, Getting beaten up, Logan is a badass, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poker, Pure Patton, Violence, deceit isnt good, e'LIE'jah, gambling au, happy ending I promise, his name will probably be elijah, i think its funny, no beta we die like men, poor Logan, remus is remus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 01:45:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casthebass/pseuds/Casthebass
Summary: Logan loves the thrill of the gamble. It's his addiction. But what will happen when his gambling addiction gets him into an impossible situation?ON HOLD





	Vagary

**Author's Note:**

> so! here is the first chapter, i plan to continue this BUT i would love to know what you think. I did actual research about this shit and ugh, it was quite boring tbh, so i tried to make the gambling part as 'not boring' as possible. And let me know is the character seem to ooc and such! there were probably be more relationships as time progresses but i dunno yet, we will figure it out. ALso! i plan two updates a month, this update counts as july, so we will see if i can stick to it, hope u enjoy! and all chapter titles r from songs which i will tell at the end

Light. Blinding light. He quickly forced his eyes back shut. Then, pain. Pain around his chest and face, but muted slightly, like he couldn't feel the full extent while still muddled. His senses started coming back to him slowly, as his brain came out of the haze that was unconsciousness. His ears were ringing intensely, and his head throbbed along with his heartbeat. His entire body felt stiff and sore, and all he could seem to muster from his vocal cords was a low groan. His mind still felt uncharacteristically slow, so he tried to  
move his arms to stretch out the kinks. His arms were bound behind his back by some type of rope. It took a few more seconds for Logans muddled brain to connect the dots, but immediately warning bells started going off in Logan's brain. 

His eyes snapped open, the hazy fog disappearing in an instant. His nose scrunched up at the putrid smell coming from the room as he took stock of his location, but immediately regretting it as nose screamed in protest, probably broken. He was in a small room, with wooden floors and shelves on each side of him. They were piled high with cans of various paint colors. He appeared to be in some type of storage room. He was bound to a cold metal chair by his ankles and feet, each appendage tied to a different leg. Smart. He pulled against them briefly, hoping to find them loose, but to no avail.There was only one door in the room, directly in front of him, which he presumed led to the rest of the house he was in. It seem to be made of a thick sturdy wood and towards the top he saw a small stain glass window, barely big enough to fit a face through. He faintly remembered being dragged here in between consciousness. 

All at once a large flood of pain rolled into him overwhelming his senses for a few moments. He gritted his teeth and looked down at himself. His lip was most definitely busted as he could feel it sting, and one of his eyes felt slightly swollen. He had no doubt he had large bruises forming in a lot of places. Come to think of it, his entire body felt like one big bruise. He could feel something warm and liquid sliding down behind his ear, he could only imagine that it was where he was hit in the back of the head with the stock of a gun when he had awoken at one point and started flailing in a blind panic. Probably why his brain had felt fuzzy. He ignored that fact, and decided to focus back on the door. He could hear nothing coming from the other side as he strained his ears. He looked at the window hoping he could get some sense of direction in correlation to where he was. He noticed he wasn't wearing his glass, probably broken somewhere, and squinted hoping he could make out more detail. He immediately noticed two beige eyes blinking at him from the bottom of the window, framed in glasses very similar to his own.

12 HOURS EARLIER

Logan was always intoxicated by the thrill of gambling. Probably because of the statistics behind it. Numbers were always his soft spot. It’s probably how his addiction began. The probability behind the roll of a dice, and the chance to loose or gain everything. Having the best hand, knowing you won't lose. The jump in a person's heart rate and the increased perspiration, it’s what kept him feeling alive. Spending his free hours playing Poker and Blackjack. It was also a probability, that his knowledge of numbers and statistics is the reason why he never lost. The perfect angle and pressure behind a role of the dice, the trajectory of the throw, all factors and variables in his own little math equation. He knew deep down he would never lose, but it was still the chance that he could, that his body got high off of. The money also wasn’t bad either.

So was it really a surprise that he hasn't always made the best of friends at the casinos he frequents ? The many nights he had come home bruised and bloodied were just testaments to the fact. He was always accused of cheating, or using loaded dice almost weekly. Everyone is a sore loser. Most nights he just lets them keep their money and scurries along, but sometimes that just isn't enough for them. He had embarrassed them in front of their friends, and they need retribution, or at least that's what they would tell them as they beat him up in the back alley. He’s gotten good at avoiding getting roped into games with those types of people. But there was just those times he couldn’t resist wiping those cocky grins off their faces. 

He was currently doing just that. He went to a new casino, trying to spice things up a bit. He was in a game of Blackjack. His opponent was an abnormal character, dressed in an all black suit, sporting a bright yellow polo, black bow tie and to top it all off a bowler hat sat dignified atop his hair. He looked like a villain straight out of a disney movie. The strangest part was his entire left half of his face, was covered in what Logan could only guess was Ichthyosis Vulgaris (one of his students has a more mild version of it, so he has done his research). The dead skin cells drooped around his eye, and made his heterochromia only that much more pronounced. 

He never asked for his name, and vise versa. In this instance, they were enemies. They dealer was in the usual drab of a casino worker, white polo and black pants. His name tag read ‘Remy’. Logan sat to the left of the dealer, and the mystery man sat to the right. His wicked grin seemed to never fade, but Logan wouldn't let it unsettle him. He guessed this was the man’s ‘home turf’ and that Logan was seen as fresh meat. He was in for a surprise. Logan put on his best ‘poker’ face, even though Blackjack didn’t require it, as he watched Remy shuffle the six decks of cards and place them in the Shoe. The dealer looked towards them both expectantly, and they both slid forward their respective bets. 

…

This was probably one of the more difficult games Logan has ever played. Even with his card counting, he could never seem to get just the right numbers. He wasn’t by any means losing though, if any thing, him and the gentleman were both winning. He decided to take things up a notch, the game was growing mundane and repetitive for him. He made note of what cards the dealer would plausibly have in his deck and adjusted his deck accordingly. A totally legal move in any normal circumstances. 

His opponent noticed his change of interest almost immediately and didn't seem to like it one bit, if how his eyes narrowed dangerously and his grip on the cards he was holding, was anything to go by. Logan felt his heart rate quicken considerably, and adrenaline began pumping through his Endocrine System. He couldn't help the bumptious expression that slipped onto his face, only setting off the man opposite him, that much more. The rest of the game was seen through a foggy haze, as Logan winnings kept building up, his Front-Loading strategy working superbly. He could physically see the other gentleman losing his temper, not being able to tell how Logan was able to keep predicting the exact cards the dealer chose, as the game drew to a close. This was the part he relished in the games he played, knowing there was nothing that could be done and that all odds were in his favor. It was his high. 

The game ended, Logan winning by a large margin. He expected the man to swallow his pride and give him a ‘good game’ handshake like most of the people he played against, squeezing his hand to oblivion. Instead, the man abruptly stood from his chair (the chair wobbled precariously almost tipping over) , and turned marching away. Logan imagined if he was wearing a cape, it would have swirled behind him dramatically. He seemed like the cape type. 

The teacher sighed rather loudly, and shook his head. He shot a sympathetic look at the dealer- Remy, who only shrugged like this happened all the time. The casino was loud with the sounds of many excited patrons, so he got up and headed to the bar. He needed a drink after that experience. He knew this would probably not be the last time he had an interaction with The Man in Yellow, and he preferred if he wasn't sober for it. 

…

Once Logan was good and well over tipsy, he headed towards the bathroom to wash up. He twisted and turned through the crowd making his way to where he scouted the bathroom was earlier, surprisingly not running into the mystery man. The casino was quite warm so he was quite relieved when the cool air of the bathroom slammed into him. For such an impressive looking casino, the bathrooms could use some work. He washed his hands thoroughly, humming a soft tune to himself. He didn't look up when the door opened behind him, having no need to. He rubbed some of the cool water on the back of his neck, and looked into the mirror. 

He let out a surprised gasp as a bandana was shoved into his mouth and tied behind his head. He struggled trying to turn, eyes wide in panic, but his arms were grabbed roughly in a vice grip. He didn't even have time to yell through the gag, as The Man in Yellow threw a fist square into his nose. He looked almost insane, eyes wide and mouth open in a large grin. He only got a brief look but the man who had bound his hands was wearing green and had a handlebar mustache. A thought flashed across his mind about these people and looking like Disney Villians, but he filed that away as not important.

Logan struggled against the man binding his arms as his eyes watered with the force of the punch, his nose throbbed violently, his glasses making a sickening crunch and falling to the floor. “That’s for cheating you piece of shit!” The Man in Yellow growled. Oh great, the usual monologue. If it wasn't for another fist making contact with his abdomen, he would have made a comment about the man's cliche statement. Logan doubled over in pain groaning into the gag painfully. The man in green let go of his arms just in time for the man in yellow to grabbed a hold of his hair and bring Logan's face in brutal contact with his lifted knee. 

Logan saw stars as he reeled back, stumbling back against a bathroom stall and falling to the floor. Where was the random stranger walking into the bathroom like in the movies, needed when you actually needed it. He heard someone laughing through his pain-induced haze, but couldn't tell which one it was. He licked his lips and winced as his tongue ran over the split in his bottom lip. The Man in Yellow kneeled down in front of him, and grabbed a hold of Logan’s blue tie, yanking Logan closer to his face. “I would have already beat you into a bloody pulp, but I don’t think you will be much use to the Boss.” Logan’s aching face morphed into a confused expression for a split second, or at least as much of a confused expression as he could, gagged and beaten, before The Man in Yellow’s fist made contact with his eye, knocking Logan clean out.

**Author's Note:**

> song for title in High Enough by K.Flay , it was hard to think of song for this, so u got this... it sorta worrks


End file.
